


What a Lovely Way to Burn

by Error401



Series: In and Out [13]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Glenn takes a shower, Grumpy!Daryl, Hot Weather, M/M, Mild Language, Misunderstandings, Sweat, motor oil, no zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Error401/pseuds/Error401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Apparently,” Daryl said, still not looking at him. Like he was making a conscious effort not to look at him. </p><p>Glenn felt himself getting distracted by the beads of sweat escaping from the hairs on the back of Daryl’s neck and into his shirt collar. </p><p>*Two short ficlets to get me back into my In and Out universe.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...I've been gone a while, huh...? Hope to get some more fic out there soon once finals are over. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

“Gee gee gee gee,” Glenn hummed under his breath. He was on his back under his car, Yoona far past due for an oil change, carefully twisting the wrench to remove the drain plug. “Baby baby baby.”

“Shit,” he cursed, frowning as a trickle of the warm oil spilled over his arm before he could get it out of the way of the stream, the rest of the black mess landing where it was supposed to in the drain pan. No matter how careful he was, the shit always got everywhere. He did his best to scoot out from his position, but the cement of the lot was scratchy and caught his old t-shirt easily, and he was sweaty and red-faced by the time he actually made it. He frowned at the way the fabric stuck to his skin, drenched by exertion and the Georgia sun. 

“I thought you’d got lost or s…” Daryl began with a grin, but his voice trailed off as he stared at Glenn. Daryl was sweating too, even though he’d just been leaning against his own truck, watching Glenn work, his skin turning a light shade of pink from exposure. 

“What?” Glenn asked self-consciously, rubbing his clean gloved hand through his hair and grimacing when it came away damp, even through the thick canvas fabric. 

Daryl swallowed, mouth twisting into a frown, and he looked away. “I didn’t even think you’d know how to do an oil change, city boy like you.”

Glenn smiled wryly and did his best to wipe away the oil, grabbing a dish towel he’d set aside earlier, just in case, and swiping at his arm. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Apparently,” Daryl said, still not looking at him. Like he was making a conscious effort not to look at him. Glenn felt himself getting distracted by the beads of sweat escaping from the hairs on the back of Daryl’s neck and into his shirt collar. He realized Daryl couldn’t even make eye contact. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Glenn asked, a little concerned. 

“Fuck off,” Daryl said, annoyed, adjusting his crossed arms.

“Geeze, fine,” Glenn rolled his eyes, turning back to his car and leaning over, watching as the dregs of black oil dripped slowly from the drain plug to puddle in the plastic pan. He crawled painfully back under and used the towel to wipe away clumps of oil and dirt from the plug, grimacing at the smell. Even with what he used to do for a living, he was never a big fan of motor oil. Finally, he grabbed the oil filter, but as he pulled it off it slipped from his grasp and splashed into the oil pan, getting it all over his shirt, and some of it in his hair and face.

“Shit!” he growled, rolling out angrily. “Fucking car!” First sweat, now fucking motor oil.

“What’s the prob…lem…” Daryl’s voice died again, and he stared. Glenn was beginning to feel like some kind of circus exhibition. “Ugh. How’s about you go take a shower, or something? I’ll finish up here.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Glenn said. “She’s my stupid car, and it’s a hundred million degrees outside.”

“Really,” Daryl swallowed. “Ain’t take me longer than five. Plus some of us aren’t wilting daisies.”

“Well…okay…if you’re sure,” Glenn smiled, feeling the oil smudge across his cheek as he rubbed at it. A shower sounded like heaven at this point.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Daryl deadpanned. 

“Thanks, crazy,” Glenn shook his head, carefully pulling off his work gloves a finger at a time. “I owe you a six pack.”

Daryl grunted an indecipherable reply. 

“Gee gee gee gee,” Glenn sang under his breath as he climbed the stairs, smiling at the thought of the shower that awaited him.


	2. Chapter 2

He stepped regretfully from the bathroom, already missing the comfort of the warm spray, towel wrapped securely around his waist. Even though he’d taken a long shower, he found that he was horribly thirsty, probably dehydrated from standing around in the sun. Rubbing a finger behind one ear to dislodge a few drops of water, he made his way to his tiny kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator, taking a moment to appreciate the cold air on his bare chest. A few goosebumps rose on the skin of his arms. 

“Fucking hell,” he heard, and jumped a little, twisting around to see Daryl staring at him from the entrance to the living room. Daryl’s mouth was tight, and he could make out the pulse of his heart beating against his throat. 

“Holy crap, Daryl,” he groaned, rubbing a hand over his chest and cursing again at the pathetically small amount of body hair present there. “You’re always coming out of nowhere.” Realizing his complete state of undress, he felt his cheeks redden a little, but he consciously chose to ignore it. It wasn’t a big deal. They were both guys. Beside, Daryl would probably freak out if he thought Glenn was…if he thought Glenn cared. Which he didn’t. At all. 

“Finished your car,” Daryl said, scratching behind his neck. “I’ll be in the den. Put some fucking clothes on, chinaman.”

“O…” Glenn began, but Daryl was gone before he could finish. “Kay…” He shook his head and looked down at his body, poking a finger into his middle, just below his belly button. Yeah, so he wasn’t as fit as he used to be, what with all the pizza from his job, but he didn’t think he looked that awful...did he? Even his arms were toning up a bit from all the self-defense practice sessions. He poked his finger into his stomach flesh again, wincing at the give. Maybe a few sit-ups wouldn’t hurt. 

Either way, he knew he would probably never be as badass as Daryl’s arms. He thought back to all the scars he’d seen on Daryl’s body. Maybe it was for the best. There was a reason people came out as hard as Daryl did. 

He quickly returned to his room and changed into another old shirt and too-large jeans, grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen before returning to Daryl in the living room. “Sorry for making you wait,” Glenn said, dropping down heavily onto the couch next to him. He downed the entire glass of water in a few mouthfuls, setting it onto the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Daryl grunted a reply, staring at the turned off television. 

“Thanks for finishing the oil change,” Glenn said.

“Hmm,” Daryl said. 

“Okay, seriously, what’s up with you?” Glenn asked. Daryl’s whole body was screaming uncomfortable at him. 

“Nothin’, don’t be such a woman,” Daryl said. 

“Whatever,” Glenn sighed. “Is there a reason you came over?”

Daryl shifted in his seat and glanced over. Shook his head. “Can’t remember.”

“Daryl…am I making you uncomfortable?” Glenn asked. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but it must have been big if Daryl couldn’t even look at his face. Did he do something to remind of the person who gave him those scars? He suddenly felt like an awful person, and he didn’t even know why. “We…we don’t have to do anything today. We can just hang out, you know. It’s been a while since I’ve just…done nothing. Umm. Or, ugh, you can just go if you have to be somewhere, I know you’re probably busy, so—“

“Kid,” Daryl interrupted, mouth forming a thin line. “It’s fine.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Glenn said. 

“Just put on a game or somethin’ and shut up,” Daryl rolled his eyes. “My brother’s at home, and he can never keep his damn mouth closed. Let’s just…sit.”

“Okay,” Glenn swallowed, picking the remote up from the table and turning the TV on. “You sure you’re okay?”

Daryl sighed. Finally looked him the eye. “I’m fine,” he said, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “ ‘m just…hot.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I hypothetically love kpop, what are the hypothetical judgment levels of my readers. Hypothetically.


End file.
